Hollis had been right when he'd warned him that it would be different than what he expected - not as easy, not as glamorous - but Dan found he didn't mind much. He couldn't say he felt comfortable walking through dark alleys at night, but when he got home, he felt like he'd accomplished something real, like he'd made a difference, and that made it well worth feeling a little out of place.

Hollis had also warned him that he'd be tested. "They'll know you're green, and they'll try to take you out before you can get too good," he'd said. "You've got to watch your back."

Daniel didn't really understand what he meant until he'd been out on the streets for almost two weeks. He didn't see it coming. One minute he was running into a dark alley to stop what sounded like a mugging, and the next he was surrounded by the biggest crowd of thugs he'd ever encountered, and they didn't look friendly. Judging by the assortment of crowbars and bats and knives he could see, they weren't there to chat.

This was what Hollis had meant when he told him that he needed to watch his back, he realized. He just as quickly realized that the odds of him getting killed within the next ten minutes were good, and that everyone in attendance knew it.

He went into the fight with the reckless abandon of a man who knows that he is doomed. He was against a dumpster, looking down the barrel of a pistol and trying desperately to figure out how to disarm his opponent, when another fight broke out at the edge of the gang. The man wielding the gun glanced away to look, and that was all the distraction Dan needed. A chop to the wrist sent the gun flying, a swift right to the jaw put him back a few steps, and a solid kick to the chest finished the fight, slamming him into the man behind him and knocking them both to the ground in a senseless, undignified heap.

The rest of the gang, smelling defeat, ran for it, leaving Dan alone in the alley. Well, alone save for the bodies on the ground and the dark figure that stood back surveying them.

That must have been who had saved his ass, Dan realized. "Thanks for that," he said, looking from the unconscious heaps on the ground to the mystery man. "They would've had me if it wasn't for you."

The man grunted and lifted his head to look at him. Daniel was immediately struck by the mask he was wearing - he could see swirling black on white even in the dim light. It covered his face entirely, and he couldn't help but wonder how the hell you could see through a mask like that.

"Would've been wrong to let them kill you," the man growled. Then he stuffed his hands in the pockets of his trenchcoat, turned, and walked away. "Need to be more careful," he called over his shoulder. Then he was gone, vanished into the night.

* * *

As it turned out, Hollis didn't know any more about the man with the inkblot mask than Dan did. And when he didn't reappear, Dan put him out of his mind and focused on fighting crime. Apparently he'd passed his street test, because he didn't encounter any more gang setups. Not that anyone seemed too afraid of him - he still didn't have much respect, but he had a place, it seemed.

If nothing else, the experience had taught him the value of watching his back. He was less trusting, more aware of his surroundings. He found himself stopping and looking around on deserted streets, certain he'd heard someone, even though there wasn't a soul in sight.

"I think I'm getting paranoid," he told Hollis one evening.

His mentor just laughed. "Of course you are. But it's not paranoia if someone's really out to get you, now is it?"

He nearly jumped out of his skin that night when a trash can tipped over with a loud clang in the silence of a dark alley. He spun around, eyes probing the darkness, but saw nothing. "Who's there?"

A moment later, a loud yowl echoed around the alley.

A cat. The Nite Owl was being stalked by a cat. It was embarassing, with more than a touch of irony. He turned and stalked out of the alley. At least Hollis would get a kick out of it.

Despite the unmasking of the feline felon, however, the feeling of being followed lingered. Once or twice he thought he heard footsteps, but he ignored them. He was probably hearing his own footsteps echoing, or else it was another goddamn cat. If there was someone following him, he would've -

"Still not watching your back."

For the second time that night, Dan started and whirled around to confront whoever had spoken. "It's you," he realized, startled.

The inkblots on the mask swirled into a new pattern as the man looked at him, just as calm as he'd been the last time Dan had seen him. "Still not being careful. Might get killed next time if you're not careful."

Dan stared. "What are you doing here?"

"Saw you come down here. Wanted to see if you were more vigilant now. Aren't."

That was brutal honesty in those incomplete sentences. He'd been stupid - getting scared of a cat didn't mean he shouldn't worry about anything else. Pride could get him killed out here.

But that didn't make it sting any less. "You don't need to check up on me. I'm doing fine."

"Hurm."

"Who are you, anyway?" Dan asked, unable to contain the question. It had been bothering him since the first time he'd seen him.

The ink twisted into a new pattern as he considered. "Rorschach."

Rorschach. He'd never heard of him before. Not in the news, not from Hollis, not from criminals. "How long have you been doing this?"

"Long enough." The voice was just as unreadable as the mask.

* * *

"Remember how I said I've been feeling like I was being followed?" Dan asked the next time he went to visit Hollis.

"Mmhm." Hollis didn't look up from the automobile magazine he was perusing.

"Well, I found out who's been following me."

That got Hollis's attention, at least a bit. "Have you?" he asked. "And who was it?"

"It's the guy with the inkblot mask I told you about a few weeks ago. He calls himself Rorschach."

Hollis nodded. "So you've found yourself another mask," he commented. "It's good to know that the future of crimefighting isn't all on your shoulders." He smiled when he saw the slightly hurt look on Dan's face. "That's not an insult, Danny-boy. You can't be everywhere at once."

Finally, Daniel was forced to tell him that he had to be going. "I don't want patrol to start without me," he said, pulling on his coat.

Hollis smiled. "Go knock some heads together," he told him. "And say hello to Rorschach for me."

Dan didn't ask him why he was so sure that he'd see the man again. Later, when he was breaking up a gang fight, he retreated a step and found another back against his, and somehow it didn't surprise him.

"Thanks for the backup," he said after the fight, surveying the unconscious bodies sprawled on the pavement.

"Hrm."

They spent the rest of Dan's patrol walking side by side, and the silence between them was the conversation of men who have a job to do.

* * *

Dan's basement was full of stuff. There was a niche in one wall where he kept his Nite Owl costume, but there was also a workbench against the opposite wall that was covered in drafts and wrenches and parts. The bulk of the floor was occupied with a half-built machine, its owl-esque windows empty and staring. It was supposed to be an airship, but at the moment it looked more like an oddly-shaped boat, or perhaps a submarine.

He had just finished pulling on his costume and was putting his goggles into place over his eyes when he realized that the ship's huge round eyes weren't what he felt watching him. Goggles on, he looked for the movement he knew he'd seen.

"Rorschach?"

"Nite Owl." He was standing just where the abandoned subway tunnel connected to the basement. Dan almost couldn't see him.

"What are you doing here?" He had to admit, he was a bit unnerved. If Rorschach had found this place, then he must have followed him back from patrol some night, and Dan hadn't even noticed. He hadn't thought he was quite so oblivious.

Rorschach shifted out of the shadow of the tunnel. "Got a tip. Drug deal in abandoned warehouse near port. Need to eliminate both supplier and distributor."

It took Dan a moment to realize that Rorschach seemed to want him as backup on this. Why else would he show up in his basement and tell him this. "Alright, I'm game," he said.

"Will give details on the way," Rorschach said, turning and heading back down the tunnel.

Dan vaulted over the railing and jogged after him, catching up and walking shoulder to shoulder with him down the edge of the tunnel, feeling almost as though that was how it had always been.